


the insulated world

by mercilesscult (dirutentacles)



Category: Dir en grey, Sukekiyo (Band)
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirutentacles/pseuds/mercilesscult
Summary: What does it mean to have a purpose in a world like this?
Kudos: 3





	the insulated world

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this thinking about nowadays kyo, thinking about the insulated world tour and about the world in general
> 
> please, don't read this if the topics i tagged are a sensitive subject to you and you think the following content may trigger you
> 
> i'd also like to express my gratitude to oomf who encouraged me to post this fanfic

What if life has no meaning at all? If so, what is the purpose of life? Does any of this matter? The lyrics I wrote, the stories I tried to convey, the amount of characters I played and shared with the world...  _ Bold _ , bold of me to assume I’ve reached a significant amount of people with any kind of shit I created. Is it really necessary to find a personal meaning for your own life? If it is, wouldn’t it be way too selfish? Doesn’t it ignore the very existence of those around us; family, friends, and anyone we ever had to connect with for a reason? Doesn’t it sound selfish? I think so, but there are contradictions. They’re always there and for what reason, exactly? People are different, they’re born in different times and there’s a bunch of generations living at the same time; there’s generational conflicts, which is, per se, a social conflict already, isn’t it? And there’s no answer for these questions, there’s no way to have  _ easy _ answers. Any kind of answer may cause a kind of conflict, even  _ neutral  _ answers.

We’re nothing but humans and all of us are going to die. Some will agonize until they can’t breath anymore, some will die simply because they’re too old. And there’s something fucked up about this, perhaps, it isn’t awkward. Isn’t really hard to understand why some people agonize until they’re dead and it’s even more awkward when you realize there’s a huge amount of pain and sometimes, blame, shared by those people. It sounds awful. Something’s outta the way. There’s no reason to be alive when you’re forced to agonize until you die and are blamed for having a stupid useless brain.  _ It isn’t useless if I’m able to create _ . But once again, I find myself wondering if I’m being selfish.

Selfish because I can’t stop wondering about myself, about the way people see me and see my creations, selfish because I can’t do anything if I see myself in this awkward place where reality and unrealistic thoughts are blended and I’m lost, I’m lost in this train of thoughts and I can’t create anything out of this. Selfish because I want to get things done on my time when I forget I live in society.  _ Society _ . Is it really possible to isolate yourself from others? Even if you live far, far, far away or just stay inside of your room, there are people who live in the same world doing something which may affect you, somehow. Again, is it really possible to isolate yourself from others? To be in complete isolation? Wouldn’t it be selfish to think it is possible to be completely alone in a world where some stupid actions made by others is able to kill you? Some stupid actions makes you feel the guilt of never being enough - for who, exactly? -, the guilt for getting those awful moments where you can’t tell what is real and what is just a creation of your own brain.

What does it mean to have a purpose in a world like this? To keep your hopes, to find a reason to be happy… What does it mean to have a purpose in a world like this? Sometimes, I look back at every single thing I did and I wonder how and why I did what I did, why I said what I said, why I created such characters to play as if I’m an actor when all of these facades were nothing but me. I’m all of this and I’m nothing, too. And it wouldn’t be possible if I was alone, if I was the only human alive in this stupid world.


End file.
